The Ballad of Mona Lisa
by Ziva- Zia- Z
Summary: There's nothing wrong with just a taste of what you've paid for. Ziva-centric. Set before T&C.


**The Ballad of Mona Lisa**

 **Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **Summary: There's nothing wrong with just a taste of what you've paid for. Ziva-centric. Set before T &C. **

**A/N: Written 2011.- Licia**

 _"Woah, Mona Lisa,_  
 _You're guaranteed to run this town_  
 _Woah, Mona Lisa,_  
 _I'd pay to see you frown_

 _Say what you mean_  
 _Tell me I'm right_  
 _And let the sun rain down on me_  
 _Give me a sign_  
 _I want to believe."_

 _\- Panic! At the Disco,_

 _Ballad of Mona Lisa,_

 _Vices & Virtues album_

She deserved this.

There was no doubt at all about that.

The floor of the small cell Saleem and his men kept her in was cold; it was dark, she hadn't seen sunlight in...

When _was_ the last time she'd seen the sun? She couldn't remember.

With a sigh, she rested her head against the wall, closing her eyes and swallowing. She'd given up all hope of rescue a week into her captivity; there was no way the team would find her- they didn't even know she was still alive. As far as they knew, she was back in Israel.

 _Israel._

She'd left her old life behind for a new one in America, only to be sent back to the one she was so desperate to escape.

And when she'd returned, she'd _not_ been welcomed back with open arms. The others in Mossad considered her a traitor for choosing America over Israel, and _Abba_... well, he'd been his usual self. Instead of telling her he was glad she was back, he'd handed her a manila folder, with her new assignment- the very assignment that had landed her here, in this dank, dark cell in the Somali desert, at the mercy of Saleem.

What had _Abba_ told her?

 _"Take a moment, Ziva, and assess the sins you're paying for."_

Sins? Which ones? There were so many sins, she'd lost track over the years. The sin of murder? Of jealousy? Of lying? Or perhaps it was one her father pushed on her- the silent one, the one that had plagued her since her very birth. The sin that had been the reason why Rivka was so desperate to escape Eli's grasp, the year she'd left and taken the girls with her?

The sin of being female.

Yes, that had to be it. It was the only one that made sense.

Eli had, after all, stopped treating Ziva like his daughter and more like one of his agents from the time she turned ten; the same summer he took her and Tali into the woods and left them to find their own way home. Rivka had been worried sick, and after they'd returned, she'd packed her bags, taking the girls and vanishing into the night, before returning weeks later. Of course, at that point, Ziva hadn't realized that her mother's leaving had more to do with Orli than her and Tali.

She had tried to be a good little soldier, but had failed, as usual, in her father's eyes. And when the _Damocles_ went down, well, Eli had done what he thought was right. He'd had no idea if his daughter was dead or alive-

 _That's bull, and you know it. Abba doesn't care. He didn't care when it went down, and he doesn't care now. He stopped caring a long time ago._

The sound of footsteps caught her attention, and she lifted her head, watching as the door swung open. The last thing she saw was one of Saleem's men standing before her before everything went dark and she was yanked roughly to her feet. "Come on, you." He grunted, pulling her towards the door. As they moved through the hallways, she could feel the very weak rays of the sun on her back, and for a brief moment, the possibility that it could be a sign she'd long given up hope on flashed into her mind.

 _Please, let me stand here, just for a moment. It doesn't matter how weak it is, let the sun rain down on me, just for a moment. It's been so long since I've felt the sun._

He yanked her away from the sunlight, and shoved her through a door. There was nothing but darkness, the harshness of the material of the hood over her head, and the cold stone floor beneath her feet. Her heart constricted. So this was it; Saleem was going to torture her until she either gave up the information on NCIS he wanted, or he tired of torturing her, whichever came first. She swallowed thickly, feeling the man shove her into a chair.

 _You deserve this. After all the lives you took, all the... horrible things you did in the name of Mossad, you deserve to die. At this point, death will be a welcome relief. You will finally be with Ima and Ari and Tali again. Yes, you deserve to die. You are ready to die._

She tensed, awaiting the first blow; the snark of his voice, the demand for information that she would never give up. A soft gasp escaped her throat as he reached for the hood, and her mother's favorite saying popped into her head- the saying Rivka would use whenever Ziva got into any sort of trouble of her own making. A saying in a voice she never thought she'd hear again.

 _"There's nothing wrong with just a taste of what you've paid for."_


End file.
